letter to nicky

Hi-Ho, Steverino!

So, life here in EKY is still what it always was; slow and unexciting.  Well, that's not to say nothing good ever happens.  FXX, a Fox channel, of all things, just got finished with a 12-day Simpsons marathon, called the Every Simpsons ever made marathon. Of course, I didn't watch them all, but I watched the most of them.

Funny, that 12-day course was like a meal at a Chinese diner; an hour after it was over, I wanted to see more. Luckily, FXX is doing the whole thing over again in a block of programming every evening from 8-12.  It's good to have cable, sometimes. 

On another front, I finally got another dog.  It was on election day during the primary; I went down to vote and I saw what looked like a golden retriever hanging outside the polling place.  I asked and was told he was a stray.  So I took him home. 

It took a while, but I eventually got him to stay around; bribed him with dog treats, etc. Yeah, there were at least two or three times he decided to see what else was out there, and he disappeared for a week or so at a time, but he eventually decided this was as good as he was gonna get, and settled in.  I think he chose the "lowered expectations" angle on his doggie life. 

Because of the color of his coat, I decided to name him Rusty.  Then it occurred to me I've never had a dog named Fido.  So I decided to name him that. Still, it seemed that it was a little normal, so I chose the Justin Wilson spelling (Cajun, don'cha know?) of Phideaux. And there you have it, Rusty Phideaux.

Of course, the dog spent at least a few months at the local school, hangin' with those hoodlums.  As a result, he never learned to spell very well, and, of course, he can't spell his name. Therefore, I've decided to call him Bud.  He can't spell that, either, but at least he doesn't fret as long about his inability to write his name. 

Oh, who am I kiddin'?  He doesn't fret about anything. He does what dogs do; licks himself and barks at things that aren't there.  But he's a lot of fun, and he makes the old prison  here bearable, again.

Mom turned 91 this last March. She's still doin' pretty well, for her age. She's shows a little confusion, now and again, but so do I, but, hey, I'm rushin' headlong into my own dotage; 59 and totterin' closer to 60 every day.

I don't mind. I was pretty tired of tellin' everyone I was in my 50's and havin' them laugh  at me. Now, next year, I won't have to put up with that, anymore. From now own, when people find out how old I am, I'll get that pitying look, and when they talk to me, they talk really loudly, so I'll be sure to hear. That sounds exciting, let me tell you.

Oh, and this summer, just to prove I can still do it, I cut up a big ol' white oak tree that fell down during a storm near my house.  I counted the rings and I got close enough to 90 to make it a pretty old tree. 

I used a tree lopper to remove the smaller branches from the crown of the tree, then I used a bow saw and a brush saw to cut up the larger branches, and later, the main trunk of the tree.  As a result, I have a large load of firewood, but no  fireplace, so I've told my cousin he can have it.

I did get the benefit of the exercise it provided from the first week of June thru the first week of August.  I can tell it did me some good, because I can do my push-ups pretty easily, now. And I enjoyed the summer a lot because I had this choir to do.

Mind you, I still had to look after Mom, but that is the great thing  about the summer months; all that daylight. So, I went out after 8 in the evening, and worked and hour or two every night.

That's kind of what bothers me about this time of year; when the first of Sept. rolls around, the days suddenly get a lot shorter.  Now, I'm stayin' indoors and using my exercise bicycle and some exercises I've learned that are meant to keep you lean and mean. Hasn't worked yet, but who knows, one of these days, and everything could come together.

Here in the Bluegrass State, we have a great opportunity this Nov., a chance to  toss Mitch McConnell out on his can, and I feel certain  we'll take advantage of it.

I got to meet McConnell's opponent, who is currently the Secretary of State. Her name is Alison Lundergan Grimes. She is, in  the vernacular of the hot rodder, a gasser. You know, a car that is meant to race and is hard to beat.

Grimes is the father of a one-time powerful politician from the Lexington area who is a natural-born pol.  He passed his genes on to his daughter. She loves the game, and is very gifted at it. Spends hours pressing the flesh and never  seems to tire.

When I got to meet her, I shook her hands and told her "Some day, I want to be able to tell everyone I shook the hand of a soon-to-be U S Senator. She laughed, hugged my neck and said "From your lips to the voters' ears!"

We've reached the point in the election-past Labor Day-when the electorate begins to pay attention, and the race is still a dead heat. And McConnell hasn't been able to build a lead, despite the fact that the Kochs, et al, have been lavishing him with campaign dough. 

I really hope we have seen the last of him. I keep saying no one should feel sorry for him; he's married to a rich Chinese lady, and after he's tossed, he'll never have to come back to Ky again.  And I'm pretty sure the buttheads at Faux News will find room for him on their couch.

There's one ironic thing about this race: McConnell keeps trying to make it about the so-called war on  coal. Turns out, tho, his wife is a member of  the Board  of  Directors of Bloomberg Philanthropies, and they gave over $50 million  to the Sierra Club's Beyond Coal Campaign.  They've used that money to keep coal-fired power plants from being built.  Bottom line, McConnell's family has been waging a war on coal, too.

But enough about all that foolishness.  I do have the "Soopa Troopa", the Crown Vic Police Interceptor, to cruise in. Thing is huge, tho. Got around $3000 in  it. My sister bought it for me.  Got it from a state auction for $1800 and put another $1200 or so in it. Thing has everything you'd want, including 4-wheel disc brakes and 17 " tires; 235 17's to be exact. Baby's got big feet.

It still uses 87 octane gas, tho. But it holds a little more gas than  the Mazda B2300, 19 gallons in all. And the gas mileage is only a little lower than the truck, with the added benefits of a much easier-to-drive vehicle.

Anyway, that's about it from here. I  have an  idea I may have a book to publish one of these days. I'm gonna make my next project a book of short stories, to be tentatively called OJT, and it'll be about stupid stuff that happens to you at work.

Anyway, take care. Call anytime you want. I'm here almost all the time, so almost any time is good for me. All the best,

Rapid Roy, that stock car boy!